


Loss is Like a Blade

by DoreyG



Category: Matthew Shardlake Series - C. J. Sansom
Genre: Heartbreak, Imagined Violence, M/M, Unstable characters being unstable, canon minor character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-12
Updated: 2012-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-03 12:11:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Wright is dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loss is Like a Blade

Dead dead dead. Sam Wright, big Sam with his strength and wirey muscles and charming half smile, is dead. Fallen off a roof. Broken on the ground. All those muscles and all that charm useless against the sheer harshness of the earth.

He twitches.

He bites back tears by the narrowest of margins. Resists the urge to simply stride across the room (to those two murderers) and _swipe_ \- leave their throats gaping red before Marchamount could even get close.

…There’d be trouble for it.

There could even be death for it.

But it’d be _worth_ it. Worth it for Sam. Worth it for the memory of his laugh, the way he looked when he was running, his hands calloused but so very talented. Worth it for his face. The low rumble of his voice. The way he looked naked. The way he always sounded so _sincere_ when he professed his love-

The breath catches hard in his throat.

The older one, the lawyer, glances up at the choking sound – eyes wide.

…And don’t think that he doesn’t see how the lawyer is leaning into his assistant, don’t think that he doesn’t _see_.

He’ll kill the lawyer first, mainly because he seems the easier screamer. Will draw it out, all for Sam. Will slit his throat only halfway and hack off his fingers and tear out his tongue and do all sorts of horrible things. Will make the assistant watch every gory second – will cut and cut and paint and paint until that stoic exterior is gone, _replaced_ by the anguish of watching a loved one die right in front of you.

…It won’t bring Sam back.

And it won’t heal the shaking in his chest, the choking in his heart.

But it’ll be _enough_ , enough for now, and at least he’ll make that assistant (that Barak) as grief stricken as he is. At least somebody _else_ will suffer the loss of their other half on this day. At least there’ll be _justice_ of a sort-

He simply has to toy with his knife, and _wait_.


End file.
